


One Morning in Winterfell

by joely_jo



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, PWP, Total and Utter Indulgence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 05:56:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joely_jo/pseuds/joely_jo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wake up it's a beautiful morning...</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Morning in Winterfell

**Author's Note:**

> This is disgraceful, I know, but I had an URGE. *shrugs* Oh, and it's probably littered with errors as it was essentially written in one night.

The shutters were closed but the sun was streaming in through the gap, filling the room with pale northern light. Ned had been awake for a while now – long enough to see the dawn brighten into day – and yet Catelyn had not stirred. It was often her way. While he would be awake with the birds, Catelyn could sleep until the sun was high. The only sound that ever seemed to wake her was the sound of a crying child, even when that cry was rooms away across the Keep.

This morning was little different. At first, he thought about rising and dressing, as he usually did, to get on with the myriad of tasks that awaited him, but there was something about the quiet, the perfect stillness, which made him not want to disturb her rest or the silence of their rooms. Lying there, he listened to the distant sounds of the castle waking around them – birdsong from the Godswood and a horse whinnying in the stables, then the sound of footsteps in the courtyard below and a shout from a guard – and watched her. She lay on her back, head lolling towards him, her lips slightly parted. The changes sleep wrought upon her face had always fascinated him, and he studied the line of her jaw, the rise of her cheekbone, the arch of her brow. The lines of her face were soft and relaxed, and he found himself thinking how youthful she looked, and as he did he recalled the beautiful girl she had been when first he met her.

She was still beautiful now, but the marks of time and motherhood had etched themselves on her features. She was a woman now, no longer a girl, and his wife, and that was the most enticing thing of all.

A deep longing to reach out and touch her overcame him, but as he moved, she rolled away from him onto her side. She was coming around, he knew, for she only ever shifted in the early morning, when sleep was soaking away from her. Elsewise she slept as if a stone, unmoving. Slowly, he slid alongside her back, tucking his knees into the space left by her curled limbs, and wrapped an arm around her. As he did so, he felt her wake, her body tensing for a heartbeat, then relaxing when awareness flooded through her and she realised it who it was who held her.

“Mm…” she greeted and pressed back into his embrace. Her bottom brushed against him and straight away, Ned felt his cock twitch in response.

He said nothing, but smiled into the red halo of her hair. He lifted its weight from off her neck and kissed the soft skin there, lips lingering, breathing in the sleepy scent of her. She smelled of herself. His hand found hers and he interlinked their fingers a moment, before releasing her and trailing his touch lightly over her belly and then her hip, over her thigh and down, until he pressed one finger into her sex.

Catelyn jumped at the sensation and bumped back into him again. His cock was hard now and he felt, rather than heard, her chuckle as she realised. “What a thing to wake up to,” she murmured.

“Do you want to stop?” His finger stilled its gentle motion.

“Oh no…”

She lifted her leg up at little, allowing him easier access, and he accepted the invitation gladly. A push into her and he discovered the hard little knot of her clit and a hot wetness that he spread around and around, slickening his touch. He heard her sigh and as he dipped into her again, she tensed. Her hand blindly reached back to grab his buttock and pull him closer so his cock pressed harder against her.

She began to rock.

Ned grunted at the rhythmic push against him and let his own motion fall into cadence with hers. He slid his other arm underneath her body and embraced her entirely. Her skin was clammy with sweat and he knew that his was too. Everything had fallen away, lost in a storm of sensation, and though his ears had been filled with all sorts of domestic sounds just a few moments ago, now his senses were filled with her. The smell of her, the sound of her tiny cries of pleasure as he coaxed her along, the feel of her in his arms. It was all intoxicating.

 _Gods…_ he thought.

The tension was peaking already within him, his cock pulsing, and he stilled, suddenly overwhelmed. She tried to keep moving but he held her tight against him so she was stopped. He hoped he would not leave bruises on her. He closed his eyes and summoned an inner calm.

Through the haze of arousal, he heard her ask, “Is there something wrong, my love?”

“I…” he began, “I need a moment.” His voice sounded breathy and almost not his own. “Or this is going to end very soon.”

She did as she was bid and Ned concentrated, closing his eyes and frowning into her neck, forcing his body to submit to his will.

Gradually, the urgency passed and he reached for her again, fingers slipping into her warmth and restoring their rhythm, thankful for her patience. She seemed to know that he was in control once again, for she began to rub her bottom against him again. Ned sighed. _She is mine_ , he thought, _truly_. _She knows me almost better than I know myself._ With gentle kisses to her collarbone and the ball of her shoulder, he curled his finger into her and stroked within.   

“Cat,” he said. “Come for me. Come on…”

It was as if she had been waiting for him, for as the words spilt out of his mouth, he felt her body tense and then she was leaning back into him, boneless and heavy, and he could feel her shaking against him.

He slowed as the last echoes of her climax faded away. For a moment, they both fell still, so the only sound in the quiet room was their mingled breathing, but then she twisted in his arms and pushed him onto his back. She climbed into his lap, taking his cock in her hands and stroking it firmly. One finger circled the tip, then pressed idly into the sensitive spot on the underside and he clamped his eyes shut, cursing under his breath.

When he opened them again, she was grinning at him, and he saw her dip to take him in her mouth. “Careful, my love,” he told her as she sucked. Her tongue laved along him a moment, then she heeded him, released and shifted forwards, guiding him inside her. As she sank down, Ned thought he actually saw nothing, his vision turning black and featureless.

She started to move. He grabbed her by the hips and held her, guiding her movements, listening to her moans of pleasure. Gentle motion, up and down, then rocking forwards, until finally he could take it no more and with one smooth motion, he flipped her onto her back and stroked into her deep and hard. “Ned!” she cried, and he felt her coming again, tensing around him in little waves.

It was enough to send him sinking down, and with two quick thrusts, he spilled his seed inside her.

The room had disappeared, but it returned piece by piece as his heart slowed – the featherbed beneath them, the cool air washing across his back, the sunlight falling on her pillow, on the coppery lengths of her hair, the _hush-rush, hush-rush_ of their breathing. Ned looked down at her and smiled. She was even more beautiful than she’d been before they began for her cheeks were flushed and her lips were swollen and red. She blinked at him darkly. “A fine morning, my lord” she whispered.

“Yes,” he agreed. He was already softening inside her and so he lifted himself out then rolled away onto the expanse of bed that was ostensibly _his_ side. He reached for her hand and threaded their fingers together.

They laid there in silence. “It is late,” she said.

“It is. I have to meet with Jory to discuss the visit to Last Hearth.”

She hummed her agreement. “And I should see to the children.”

Both sighing, they climbed from the bed together. Catelyn poured water into the basin and dampened a cloth to wash. She would bathe later, he knew, when the fire was blazing and she could be assured of water hotter than a geyser. _I might even join her_ , he thought idly. He took out clean smallclothes and breeches from the wardrobe, then donned them, watching out of the corner of his eye as she ran the brush through her tangled hair and stepped into her gown. “Lace me up, will you?” she asked, and he obliged, going to stand behind her. He lifted the loose braid she had worked into her hair and kissed her neck when he finished and then turned her around. She smiled and reached up to kiss him.

When she pulled back, he sighed. He would have been content to have continued, but she was all business, throwing back the furs and blankets from the bed and beating the pillows back into life. Wishing to clear the air in the room, he went to the windows and flung them open one by one, letting the cold morning rush inside.

He turned back to see her at the door, one hand already lifting the latch, and thought to steal one last kiss from her before she left. She squeaked in surprise as he grabbed her by the waist and kissed her again, pressing her up against the door. But before her backwards motion could close the door again, a tiny familiar voice piped up through the gap. “Mother?”

Catelyn froze in his arms. The lazy smile that had been on her lips vanished and her eyes alighted on his and widened. “Arya?”  

“Mother!” came the voice again. “I thought I could hear you.”

 _How long has she been there?_ Ned mouthed silently. He let his arms fall away, releasing her. Catelyn shook her head. She turned, took in a deep breath, and opened the door fully.

Beyond, Arya stood in her nightgown with her hair unruly from sleep. She held an empty cup in one hand. Her grey eyes were bright and awake and she blinked as she looked up at Catelyn. “Mother,” she said again.

“What’s the matter, sweetling?” Catelyn replied.

“I wanted a cup of water.” She looked uncertainly at Ned. “I couldn’t reach the jug and Robb and Jon are still asleep and Sansa won’t help me. I’ve been standing here for an age.”

At those words, Catelyn glanced back at him. _An age?_ Ned thought.

“Have you… Have you been listening at the door?” Catelyn asked in a tight voice. A blush was colouring along her cheekbones.

Sensing something was amiss and no doubt thinking she had in some way displeased them, Arya looked down at the floor, scuffed her foot across the boards, and then replied, “You told us we should always knock, and I did, I knocked, but there was no answer, but I could hear you. You said Father’s name. Well, you shouted it really.”  

Ned swallowed. He had heard no knock at the door and Catelyn’s expression told him that neither had she. “Father’s name… yes…” she said. “Arya, go back to your room. I will come and get you some water shortly.”

Their daughter scampered away at the instruction and Catelyn turned back to him, aghast. He couldn’t help it then – the look on her face was what did it – and he burst into laughter. He grinned at her and mocked, “ _Ned!_ ” Catelyn pursed her lips and raised her brows at him, but he could see the shared amusement in her eyes. “I have the feeling I’m not going to hear your voice for a while when we bed for fear of being overheard by eavesdropping young ears once again.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “It is your own fault,” she told him.

“Every bit, my lady,” he agreed willingly. “And I regret nothing.” He came to her and took her in his arms again, still unable to contain his smile.

“No, I suppose you don’t.” She paused. “I might, though. And if she asks what we were doing, I’m sending her to you.”    

 

The End. 


End file.
